


Pick a flower

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Homophobic Slurs, Hurt, M/M, PTSD, Slight Comfort, Slurs, bros a dickhead, car crash, he kicks dave out, its very small at the end, johndave can be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Dave's kicked out of his home he has nowhere to go. He wanders the streets of Huston.
Relationships: John Egbert & Dave Strider, John Egbert/Dave Strider
Kudos: 35





	Pick a flower

**Author's Note:**

> READ TAGS FOR TRIGGERS
> 
> i did not proof read this

“Bro, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” You cut yourself off as he steps closer. You stare up at him with fearful eyes. He responds with a stern glare.

“Get the fuck out.”

“What?”

“I ain’t livin’ with no queer. Get out. Go. Pack your shit and leave.”

You look up at him again, confused and scared. What the fuck does he mean? Where the hell are you supposed to go? You feel instant dread crawl down your spine. How did he even find out? You suddenly remember you forgot to clear your search history. Sure, maybe looking up questions like “Am I gay?” or “Why do I like boys?” on a device he checks every day was dumb but you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t thinking.

You grab at his shirt. “Bro, where am I supposed to go. I can’t-- Please just let me--” He pushes you harshly and you fall over, almost hitting your head on the floor.

“I don’t care where you go, just get the hell out, or else.” He stomps off, slamming the door to his room. 

You sit on the floor dumbfounded, unable to move. You’re shaking violently and having a hard time breathing. You slowly get on your feet and limp to your room. You don’t even have a suitcase so you decide to stuff most of your stuff in the numerous Walmart bags laying around your room. You stuff all the small items you can in the bags. Clothes, money, food from the stash in the corner, your only stuffed animal. You have about seven packed bags by the time you’re finished. You barely manage to carry them outside the apartment before dumping them into the small wooden wagon you always kept outside, hidden in the bushes. 

As you begin to walk away from the house, still completely terrified, you notice something. For once in it’s miserable life, Huston is not sunny. It’s pouring down heavily. You sigh in irritation and continue walking, not sure where to go. You just keep walking until you can’t anymore and you have to sit on the wet sidewalk next to some alleyway. You mumble something about being tired to yourself and slump against the nearest wall.

Suddenly you feel a grip on your arm. You turn around, panicked to see a lady looking at you concerned. “Are you a runaway?” A sense of deja vu washed over you as you remember all the times bro grabbed you by the arm and yanked you only to slap you or hurt you in some kind of way. Suddenly everyone’s too close and everything’s too small and you can’t breathe. You tug harshly, voice filled with panic. “LET GO OF ME.” You tug harder as her grip begins to tighten. “DON’T TOUCH ME. I’M SORRY!” You finally break free from the grip and book it down the sidewalk as fast as you can. 

You don’t feel it until it you’re laying on the ground bleeding. It’s only your leg that’s injured so you get up and keep running, with a limp this time. You don’t even process the fact that you’ve literally been hit by a car. Adrenaline is kicking in and masking the pain. You just need to get out. Get away from him. He’s going to find you. He will find you and you’re gonna get hurt. You--

You stop and collapse hands first into the grass. You look around, gasping for air and take in your surroundings. You finally get your rapid breathing to simmer down into more rhythmic breathing. You look down at your leg and let out a sound of horror. It’s a bloody mess. You realize you feel a lot more light-headed than you thought. You bring your knees up to your face and sob. This is so fucking stupid. You didn’t want this. You wish you were home. You wish you were never born. You wish--

“Dude, you ok- WHOAH!” You look up to see frightened brunette boy. He’s staring at your leg. “Holy shit dude! Okay, we’re gonna get you to the hospital. Why are you out here?”

You try to spit the words out but they’re stuck in your throat so you just stay silent. You watch as he calls his dad over. They pick you up and carry you to the back of their car. They speed off as you look outside the window.

The boy next to you turns. “I’m John. You don’t have to tell me who you are right now. Don’t worry we’re gonna get you help.”


End file.
